Shadowed Emerald
by The Jade Knight
Summary: Harry has been wrongfully sentenced to a lifetime in a Triple Max cell of Azkaban for the murders of thirty seven 'Upstanding Purebloods'. He walks out the front gates five years later. Demons Run when a good man goes to war. Riddick!Harry H/G


Disclaimer: I do not own, nor make any profit from the Harry Potter Franchise, literary or cinematic.

This is an idea ive had for a little while. If you've ever seen the Chronicles of Riddick you'll see a lot of similarities, but it is NOT a cross-over. There will be elements bound into the fabric of the Harry Potter Universe, but you will not be seeing any characters from the Riddick movies or otherwise making an appearance. That being said you do not need to have seen or even heard of Riddick to enjoy this story, though if you have you'd probably understand a little something extra i've given harry for this story (evil laugh)

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* * *

'Ask someone what they remember from October of Ninety Seven and every single person will start talking about the night of the Fifteenth. They were sitting around the table having supper listening to the wireless, or they were one of the masses outside in the lobby of the Ministry, staring up at the speakers set up to broad cast the Trial. Capital 'T' intended.'

'Some people called it the Trial of the Century, others called it The Fall of the Boy-Who-Lived. I call it the day I got the Joke. Years before I had asked Sirius why he was laughing when they took his mugshot and all through the trial.'

'_Harry_, he said looking me right in the eye, totally serious for once, _I couldn't help it. I stood there, bound and being shocked and hit with pain curses whenever I tried to defend myself and saw nothing but scared cowards standing on their podiums, and behind their desks all looking down their noses at me. They were more concerned with protecting their own lying Death Eater sympathizing or funded arses than anything resembling Justice. You'd understand if you were there._'

'Half way through my own version of what could be called a trial I broke into laughter, tears of rage and near madness running down my face as I stared up at the clowns wearing the mask of Themis. There were no scales of justice that day, and if the sword was present it was not my neck that it was poised over.'

'I was given thirty seven life sentences for the 'cold blooded murders of thirty seven upstanding Pureblood members of society.' Nine hundred and twenty five years, with no option to appeal, be release, and no such thing as parole. They were all out to see me put into a dark hole from which I could never crawl out of, and would never be heard of again. Even I have to agree they did a pretty good job of it.'

'It didn't matter that all of these 'upstanding Purebloods' were found to bear the Dark Mark, as well as having been killed in full Death Eater garb. It didn't matter that they were in the process of attacking a school that resulted in the deaths of twenty nine children under the age of seventeen plus twenty two Aurors, staff, and others who attempted to fight the so-called Lord Voldemort and his army of cowards.'

'So They threw me down the Hole in the bottom of Azkaban that no one is supposed to know exists. The place where they put people they never want to hear from or about again, and managed to forget about me for five years.'

'Five years is a long time for something to change in a person. A long time for what walks out of hell to be very different from what was thrown in. Those people who dealt their own justice, with no regard for what the word even means had plans to crush a skinny boy that they last saw laughing with tears cutting the grim on his face, draped in chains and torn clothes.'

'Five years was a long time for something to change … for their nice neat plans to go wrong.'

* * *

The ship cutting through the choppy waters creaked and groaned with every swell, each of them rattling the floorboards and making the occupants thank the magic that no doubt was the only thing holding the old ship together. Three large sails were fully extended and pulling the ship, named Charon's Way across the black waters to the maximum security prison that sat like a dead carcass just off the coast of Scotland. The old East Indiaman was a three mast ship build sometime in the seventeen hundreds and had been in constant use as a ferry for prisoners and visitors to Azkaban island.

At the very tip of the bow deck Hermione watched the prison getting closer and closer. The dark storm clouds that were always circling the island flashed now and again with lightning and the winds blew back against her, pressing her robes hard against her body.

Standing on regular intervals along the ship were the prison guards dressed in black and grey robes, their wands never leaving their hands and their eyes never ceasing their calm roaming of the decks and waters around, always on the watch for anything suspicious.

Severus Snape walked up behind her, the mists making his scars shine brighter in the harsh light. The skin where his own left eye had once been was now melted wax like scarring and instead of the eye he was born with a slightly larger, yet otherwise normal magical eye now rested. Unlike Moody's eye that was electric blue, enormous, and could see through almost any material, Snape's was simple and allowed him some vision but was otherwise not much more than a glass eye.

Five years before Harry had managed to cast some basic healing charms on his dying form after the mauling Snape had received from Nagini. They were weak spells, nothing more then the few Harry had learned in fourth year during his frantic preparation for the Triwizard tournament, but they had prolonged Severus's life long enough for him to be transported to a fully trained healer. Now his body was covered is masses of scar tissue where the venom had eaten away his flesh, and since the beasts venom was so steeped in dark magic it never quite healed properly.

Still, Severus was alive, and he was nothing but grateful toward the boy he once held in such contempt for the painful reminders he always brought with his presence. Now Headmaster of Hogwarts, Snape was still considered a 'Black Bat' in something resembling human form. He had always been impatient with horseplay around dangerous potion ingredients, and most recently any class where a bit of play could result in serious injury or even death.

If he had to be the bad guy to press the seriousness of the magics that the children of the school were handling, he would be fine with that. So many of them flaunt rules that were in place to preserve life.

"Landfall in two minutes," said the Captain in his magically enhanced voice that did nothing to the thick accent.

"Do you think he will greet us as friends or enemies Headmaster?" Hermione asked softly, her words soft, almost fearfully so. "We've tried so many times to get him freed, but I really doubt he would have heard of them. What if he thinks we left him to rot?"

"He is a smart boy," Snape replied, not wanting to expand any further on the subject, because these were thoughts he himself had been fighting with for days, and no answer had yet presented itself. His voice still slurred due to the partial paralysis on the left side of his face. He had worked with it, and after a year of practice had learned how to get his lips to pronounce words correctly enough for there to be no need for annoying repetitions.

"It's Harry," Ron said, slinging a pack over his shoulder and giving a confident smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "The only ones he really see as enemies are the ones who make themselves out to be. We're his friends, I'm sure he will at least listen."

Ronald had grown well into his nineteenth year and now stood just shy of six foot five. He towered over his two companions, and his whole family for that matter. Although he had put on a little weight and some muscle he still looked very gangly beneath his robes that were hanging half open, revealing his favourite denim jacket. Hermione had taken him shopping in a 'Mall' a few years ago and he had worn it ever since.

"I hope you're right," Hermione replied, leading the way across the deck to where one of the sailors was throwing a rope down to a man on the equally as rickety and ancient dock. There were several boards missing, showing the crashing black water beneath, and the whole structure looked like it could fall into the ocean at any moment. Again, thanks to the magics, it had stood for hundreds of years in that same state of disrepair, and would stand for hundreds more.

Ten minutes later they were walking the steep steps carved into the black stone, spiralling up the side of the island and leading to the prison. The three companions were being escorted by two blank faced guards who were following along to either side of them. Lightning stuck the ground a distance away, leaving a smoking patch of sizzling rock as rain started to fall harder. The only light was coming from the torches placed along the stairway every third step or so, giving them just enough to not trip, but doing nothing to break the tense and gloomy atmosphere.

They were ushered through two large iron doors built into the featureless grey wall that ringed the island. Ron looked up, and saw the outline of sharp angles, sweeping towers, and dozens upon dozens of windows glowing with torch light that seem to just hang in the black abyss of the sky.

They checked in all wands at the front desk, were searched, scanned, and probed in every way magically possible before they were lead down a long hallway lined with small openings that would no doubt fire something unpleasant at them if they tried something, or there was an attempted escape. Judging from the scores and scratches on the flag stones beneath their feet this was the same way prisoners were brought into the complex shacked and chained.

Hermione could almost hear the ghost like screams of people as they were walked down this hallway. She swallowed hard, firming her resolve and straightening her back. Trying not to think about how many had been dragged, kicking, screaming and pleading down the same path she now tread. Wondering if Harry had been in that same state. Yet, she couldn't stop her eyes from darting to the dirty and broken fingernail embedded in a long crack crossing her path.

"I'll take them from here," said a voice from further along in front of them. The man walked under a torch and they recognized their old year mate. He was a little wider in the shoulders, and the goatee was new, but otherwise he still seemed to be the same. Seamus nodded to them all as the boatmen turned back to head out. "Good to see you all here, he said to expect you any day now."

Hermione and Severus exchanged looks, silently asking the other if they had any idea who 'He' was. "Um, Seamus?" Hermione prompted. "Who told you to expect us?"

"Harry," he replied simply with a smile, unlocking a thick wooden door that hummed with wards and ushered them though.

"How could he know we were coming?" Ron asked, looking to his two companions to see if they understood any better than he did.

"Harry knows a lot he isn't supposed to," Seamus said with a little laugh. "When a guard goes on vacation, what the Warden is up to on weekends, who's doing whom in the locker rooms. Quite a few of the guards are rather bothered by it all, and I think that's what he is trying to do. If you're in a place like Azkaban that is meant to get under your skin, the best way to deal would be to get under everyone else's skin first."

"He's all right then?" Ron asked quickly, a wide grin of relief passing over his face. He didn't say it, but ever since the others started talking about this trip, he was afraid that when he got to the island his best friend would be nothing but a shell drooling in a corner. Harry certainly had enough dark memories for a place like this to break him.

"He's alive and … well," Seamus said slowly, not looking back at any of them as he lead them down a long corridor. Behind him Ron didn't notice the strange looks passed between Severus and Hermione as they were lead somewhere they didn't expect.

"He is not the same guy I remembered from school. This place has really changed him. He says that he was always like this, at least a part of him, but he tried to be normal. In here though, all the masks and acting seemed pointless, and he just embraced the animal side."

"Where are we going?" Severus asked quickly, cutting him off.

"I can't tell you until we're past the ward line."

"We were told … everyone was told that he was put into a Class Two cell in a top tower," Ron interrupted, his heart clenching hard in his chest. There were four classes of cells in Azkaban. A Class Three cell was the lightest, with some access to fresh air and the little bit of sunlight that managed to fight through the black thunderclouds over the prison. These cells were used for people who were only there for relatively minor infractions, or those awaiting trial. The Dementors passed these cells on a rotation that only gave the prisoners one hour of exposure a day.

Hagrid was put into one of these cells during the Chamber of Secrets incident.

A Class Two cell was darker, with no light save for a small window that was opened once a week for an hour, and only for those prisoners who showed good behaviour. The Dementors spent as much as six hours near these Cells, and the meals came slowly. They were bad places to be, but survivable. Sirius was in a Class Two cell for all those years.

A Class One cell was absolutely dark, with no light let in at any time. They existed in a state of eternal darkness, and since they were under the water level, and had never been maintained regularly the best of them were dripping with ice cold salt waters, moss, and all kinds of sporring moulds. The Dementors were stationed one per cell here, and moved on a rotation so that there was always one close by.

No one who had spent more than three years in these cells had survived with their minds intact.

Then there were the Double Max cells, of which there were only twenty. They were tiny, barely large enough to sit in, let alone stand or pace. They were cut into the very bedrock of the Prison, and were considered to be Hell itself. Little was known about them, aside from the face that no one had ever been sent down there and heard from alive again. Worse still, the Dementors Hive was located in the natural cave system under the prison, and being that close to their nesting ground could blow the mind out of the weak willed instantly.

"I remember reading many things that were apparently true in the papers in our days in school," Seamus replied, unable to look them in the eyes. "None of that was true either." He lead them into a large cavern with twenty foot tall walls that were bare aside from the black burns of old spell fire. On the far wall there was an ancient looking wooden door. It was moss covered, and beneath the green slime and mould Hermione could almost make out an elaborate carving. Something was nagging at the back of her mind, and she almost missed the little tingle of static over her skin that came with them crossing a ward line.

Seamus called up to the guard tower high above and waited until someone stuck their head over the ledge. "Open Demon's Run," he said clearly, not needing to look back to see the shock on the faces of the people he once called friends. He stared upwards, flashing his wand tip in the proper sequence to signal the unlock.

Behind him Ron's legs gave out and he fell to one knee, and threw up all over the floor. He didn't have a weak stomach, but … Demon's Run was real! And they stuck Harry down there... oh merlin he'd been down there five years!

Hermione wasn't doing much better, and the only reason she hadn't succumbed to the knowledge of what one of her best friends had been subjected to was because Snape had gotten her under the arm and was holding her up until her knees could hold her weight again even as the Headmaster looked paler than anyone had ever seen him.

"You put him there!" Ron screamed, getting his legs under him again and standing up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "That place isn't even supposed to be real!"

"Demon's Run is real, and had been around since the time of Arthur Pendragon," Seamus replied turning, still unable to meet the other man's eyes. "What do you think Azkaban was before they started building up? Do you think they moved the Dementors here?"

"Azkaban was originally build around a hole in the earth that Wizard kind had discovered contained the Dementors. They were here first," Hermione added, straightening herself and moving forward to stand next to Ron as support. "The Double Max cells were the very first man made constructs created on this Island. Before that it was just a hollow island that the Dementors bred and lived in. It gained the name 'Demon's Run' in the 1200's after ships started sailing too close and Dementors followed them back to land."

"Close, but not quite up to your usual standards," Seamus said as the guards above levitated a heavy iron key down. "The Double Max cells were the very first parts of the prison build here, but it wasn't the first incarnation of Azkaban. Back before they build the Double Max cells, and all the other Classes one on top of each other, each layer serving a duel purpose of imprisoning unwanteds and containing the Dementors they would take prisoners to the island and just throw them down the pit." The moss covered and heavily warded door inched open with a squeal that could be felt in their very bones. Seamus lead them through, and down the wet steps, spiralling drunkenly down into the earth.

Headmaster Snape was taking up the back post, keeping his eyes on the shadows. They were already walking down a staircase into a place that wasn't supposed to exist, he wasn't about to risk any other myths coming out of the shadows. They travelled for what seemed like hours, descending further and further until the staircase opened up onto an almost natural looking balcony with a tarnished steel hatch in the middle of the floor. Seamus lead them to the edge of the platform and they all looked down into a black abyss that seemed to go on forever.

Far below them they could see catwalks and caves that had been carved out and build up over the centuries. Dotted here and there were small light sources, but mostly the black was absolute. Hermione felt the medallion she was given to fend off the effects of the Dementors heating up as the sheer number of them increased a hundred fold.

A thick soupy fog was boiling a few hundred feet beneath them, giving off a little bit of eerie green glow. This was the Dementors nest, the place where they bred and lived their tortured lives. Every so often a scream could be heard from human lips, and Ron was pretty sure he could hear someone crying softly in the black.

"The prison used this place as a dumping ground for garbage for about as long as there has been a real prison here. Metals, desks, paper, pretty much anything that would cost money to ship back to the mainland was dumped down here instead. It wasn't till a hundred odd years later that they started to see things being built with the scraps. Everyone thought that anyone thrown down there either killed themselves the first day or had their souls sucked out, but it wasn't long before they realized some people were managing to survive. We still don't know quite how."

Seamus put his wand to his throat and a moment later his enhanced voice rang out. "Harry, you have visitors."

"You said there were other people still alive down there?" Ron asked fearfully, his face still pale and sweaty. "Are we in danger? Like could they get up here?"

"No, there are wards and kill spells all over this place now." He nodded, drawing their attention to the glyphs carved into the stone around them that continued on further than they could see. "If anyone but Harry comes up here they will be kill immediately."

Hermione swallowed hard. Harry didn't have those protections. He was down there mixed in with who knew what. She was actually getting very worried if they would recognise him when they saw him. "How many people are down there? It can't be that many," she asked, hoping.

"There are many more than you'd expect," Seamus replied, with a tinge of shame in his voice. He became a guard for the right reasons. He wanted to make the world a better place in the small way he could. Yes there was corruption, and there were probably some people in here that didn't deserve it, but a man did what he could with what he was given. He wished there was something else that he could do for them, but he hadn't found a way yet.

It was enough for his peace of mind to know that he was making sure the murders, rapist, and Death Eaters that couldn't buy their way out stayed away from the people who deserved a few years of peace.

Severus looked down and his eyes could catch human movement near some of the brighter light sources. There were touches all along the walls behind them, so he had no doubt that everyone beneath them could make them out clearly. The Headmaster turned back to his companions, expecting to wait a little longer for Mister Potter to show up, and started when he found their party had increased by one.

Hermione noticed him next, no doubt seeing the look on Severus' face first. Seamus didn't seem at all bothered or even surprised by the sudden appearance of someone else. Ron screamed and almost tripped over his own feet moving as far from the new arrival as he could.

Harry grinned ruefully and slowly looked over all four of them. They all stood frozen, staring wide-eyed, looking at the man they had last seen on the cover of the Prophet being dragged from the court room cut, bleeding, hung in conjured chains and laughing like a mad man. He looked nothing like how any of them remembered.

He had always been thin, and although he was still almost scarecrow-like and didn't have much obvious muscle, now his arms and chest seemed to be bound in steel cables. Harry had his arms crossed over his chest, and almost seemed to be lazily watching them, totally unsurprised they were here. He wore a black sleeveless shirt that showed off dozens of scars. Some seemed to be from blades, while others were clearly burns, and a few even looked like bite marks.

Harry wore thick black pants with dozens of pockets with who knew what stored in them, over top of very military looking boots laced up to the ankle. His hair was still as wild as ever, and still had some semblance of the seeker they once knew, but his normal emerald eyes were covered by a pair of thick blast goggles. They were as black as midnight, and Hermione was really wondering how he could possibly see anything down here. Even right beside the torches they could barely see five feet into the darkness.

"Nice of you to come. I've been expecting all of you," he said easily, pushing off the wall and walking up to them. He reached out and shook Severus' hand in a distantly friendly manner. "It seems your scars have been healing well. I was sorry to hear that they couldn't save your eye, but you seem to have made a replacement."

"Indeed," was all that the Headmaster could think of as a reply. He looked so normal. Not himself granted, but still nothing like you'd expect a man who had spend five years in Demon Run to look like.

"Hey guys," Harry said happily, coming around and looking Ron up and down. "Seems like you're getting taller every time I see you Ron. That reach must really help you keeping for the Cannons huh? Actually made it into the Semi's last year huh? First time in what? Two hundred and thirteen years I think they said?"

"Yeah," Ron said, grinning happily finding some nostalgia in talking Quidditch with his best mate. "Of course Tam is the best seeker we've had in years, with him catching the snitch so quickly and me keeping the score down as far as I can we might get a chance at the League Championships this year." Ron trailed off as a thought struck him. "Wait, how did you know that?"

"I get him a copy of the Prophet when I can," Seamus said, smiling as he watched the reunion of the golden trio. Of course he was still on duty, so his wand never left his hand, but it was a heartening sight none the less.

"Maybe I was at a few of his games?" Harry asked, tilting his head just enough so that Seamus could see his face reflected in those black goggles. Something orange rolled across his knuckles quickly before anyone could really get a fix on it and vanished just as quickly. A real feat considering he didn't have sleeves.

"Was that a cannon's pin?" Hermione asked, having the sharpest eyes.

"Maybe?" Harry replied, smirking a little. He left Ron's towering side and walked around his other best mate, admiring how much she had grown up. He paused once just behind her and gave her neck a quick smell, making Severus' eyebrows to raise before continuing around and stopping before her. "You look very beautiful Hermione."

"Thanks," she said offhandedly. If it had been anyone else she would be really uncomfortable, with all of that, but it was still just Harry. Mostly. And she had grown up around him, considered him more of a brother she never had then just some guy.

"So Luna? How did that happen?"

Hermione jerked like she had been slapped. _NO_ one knew that! She looked at Seamus accusingly wondering if he had another off the shoulder explanation, but he just shrugged. "He knows things he isn't supposed to remember?" She looked back to Harry and he was just standing there smiling like the Cheshire cat, showing more teeth than should be possible.

"Wait, what does that mean?" Ron asked looking very confused, mostly from all the shocked being thrown at him one after another. Finally something connected and his eyes when wide and his eyes shot to Hermione, and he blushed. "Oh?oh... OH!"

"How does it work now?" Harry asked, looking like he was enjoying this entirely too much. "Do I do the big brother thing and try to scare her off? Tell her I know what she's thinking? Shall I polish a shotgun as I invite her into the parlour for an uncomfortable talk? Wait, I need to get a shotgun for that, and polish, and a parlour. I think I should be able to rent most of that."

"It just kinda happened," Hermione said, blushing a little nervusly. She hadn't told anyone yet, they were still trying to see if it was the kind of connection that would last before jumping into things full force. Especially with all the taboo in the Magical world, they were still in the 1800's concerning that kinda thing. It felt like she was telling her older brother about her first girlfriend, even though he was younger. He was always just so protective of everyone he cared about that it felt natural.

"There was the night of your trial. Everyone was so worked up, and I couldn't sleep, and she just talked with me all night. We'd get together for a girls night with Fleur, a few of her friends and Ginny." She winced, recalling painful memories. "Then it started being just her and I. It was like that for a long time, until I mentioned it was like we were dating and she just got that knowing look on her face and said '_yes, we have_' and it didn't sound like a questions. The conversation went from there and we decided to unofficially make it official a year ago."

Harry smiled at her in a way that made her smile back and in a moment of the old Harry returning, he hugged her in a very brotherly way, and she couldn't help but feel a huge swell of emotion. The rest of the world was still in question, but her Brother accepted her and Luna.

"Oh?" he said, having gotten a better reading being closer. "Looks like Luna wanted to give you a few Happy Memories to help with the Dementors."

Ron broke a little mentally when he worked out what all that meant. "So you don't like blokes?"

"Well yes I still like guys as well," Hermione said, loving how much it felt like all three of them were back in the Burrow having a conversation over hot coco or something. Five years in Azkaban hadn't broken him like she feared. "It's not every woman either, or_ any_ other woman really. Just my Luna. It's complicated, but simply so."

"I see," Ron said, not really understanding anything, but past mistakes had taught him to never take his friends for granted. "All right then." Hermione gave him a glowing smile as well and they fell into an easy conversation for a little while, just catching up on the last few years … even though Harry still seemed to know too much, and kept dropping very strange hints while smiling that damn Cheshire Smile of his.

Headmaster Snape was content to just let them reconnect for a while, but they couldn't stay for much longer than an hour according to Prison Rules, so with some regret he cleared his throat very pointedly and broke it up. "I know you've all just got your friends back, but there is something very important that we need to discuss Mister Potter."

All the humour and fun suddenly burned away from Harry's aura and he became as cold and unyielding as stone. The change was so startling that Ron and Hermione were both shocked silent by it. "I am not fighting their blood war for them again."

Very serious looks were passed between the three of them, and it was Hermione that spoke up. "Minister Shacklebolt thinks we're here to consult with you for whatever you know about any surviving Death Eaters. But I promise that we are here to try to figure out a way to free you."

He watched them all very carefully from behind his black goggles, turning slowly from one to the next, reflecting their nervous faces back to them. "But you know it's not Death Eaters rising up in some sort of tribute for their master."

"We suspect." Severus nodded, and folding his hands behind his back.

"I fought one war. I did my part ... more than my part. It's not my responsibility any more, and it never should have been placed right at my feet. Cowards hiding behind school children, and expecting them to protect everyone from the White Masked Cowards."

"We agree Harry," Hermione said carefully. "We don't think it's right either. Right now all we want to do is get you out. It seemed like an excuse that would work and it has so far. Now we just have to figure out a way for you to get out of here. I managed to negotiate three consultation sessions with you, and if we can't devise a plan to break you out by then I'll get us more time. We will get you out of here Harry. The entire Ministry can go bugger themselves with a cactus is they think we're handing you over to them or forcing you into fighting for them again. Whatever else happens will be totally up to you."

Ron's mouth dropped open and he stared at Hermione like she had a few extra heads when her opinion of the ministry got rather … colourful. Headmaster Snape's eyebrows raised into his hairline, which was his equivalent of the same expression. Harry didn't say a word to her, and his expression didn't change at all. For a very long time he just watched Hermione, making them all fidget and get a little nervous.

Finally he turned so that his back was to the light, and with a very practised looking move lifted his goggles up onto his forehead so that his eyes were revealed to the black. Hermione's insatiable curiosity demanded that she see his eyes, and understand how he could see with such dark lenses, but she managed to hold her position and leave him be for now.

She did however move just a fraction of an inch to her left. Not enough to see his eyes from beneath his wild hair, but more then enough to see his hands flashing through all kinda of positions and signs in such a precise and complicated way that it had to mean something. He waited, motionless and looked into the darkness beneath for a long while before he flashed a few more signs and flipped his goggles back down.

He watched them again, without moving or speaking until Hermione couldn't take it any more. "What are you thinking Harry?"

"I'm thinking that I might just bring a war," he said in a rather deep pitch. "And not the war that the Ministry is wanting."

Hermione, Ron and Severus all quickly looked to Seamus who was looking at his wand very intently. He _knew _that Harry was someone that had been imprisoned wrongly, and if all he could do to help him get out was to not listen, then he could do that. "Oh my, it seems I accidentally cast a deafness charm over myself. I think I'll need a few minutes to remember the counter charm."

Headmaster Snape rolled his eyes at the bad humour but Ron grinned widely.

"I'll be at the Burrow at sundown tomorrow," Harry said as though it was nothing and started to walk away into the darkness.

"Wait, what!" Hermione shouted. "You think you can just walk out of Demon's Run?"

Harry flashed her what was quickly becoming his Cheshire Smile, and flicked something at her. She missed, but Ron's Quidditch reflexes were up to the task and he snatched it right out of the air. Looking down at what he caught, he was amazed to find that it was in fact a Cannon's button. "You have to learn to guard your beneath better, those two shots Remierez got in when you played the Fulmouth Falcons were preventable."

"I – What?" Ron said intelligently.

"I'll see you at the Burrow tomorrow," Harry said indulgently.

"Harry, there is something you should probably know before you show up there. Things have changed." Hermione wrung her hands, unsure how to break the terrible news to him. He had already been through so much, but she just couldn't stand it if he showed up there, looking around half expecting to see their favourite Spitfire. "Something happened to Ginny four years ago."

Harry stopped, his outline just visible against the inky blackness with the torch light. He didn't say anything. Ron lost all the colour in his face, and couldn't bring his eyes up from the cold stone floor, remembering the last time he saw her white marble tombstone. It sat at the back of the family plot, resting so peacefully under the shade of a weeping willow. He had only managed to bring himself to visit it twice, and each time there were was a little red robin there.

"She protested the loudest when you were convicted," Hermione said softly, her voice in a whispered tone you only use when talking about the dead. "She stormed into so many offices and kicked down so many doors trying to get you freed that it started to be a joke to call her Typhoon Ginny." Hermione wiped away a few tears that had managed to fight their way past her resolve. "It was four years ago on the ninth of February that a group of Death Eaters including Dawlish managed to capture her and tried to bring her to his manor. She fought like a beast. There were seven death Death Eaters when the Aurors got there, but she had already bled out. They said she went fast. There was no pain."

"So everyone knows that Ginny died in a Death Eater attack four years ago huh?" Harry asked, seeming to be fighting a laugh. Ron looked up, and the look on his face was terrifying, only to be washed away by Harry's next words. "Just like everyone, including my family _knows_ that I'm only in a Class two cell?"

"What are you saying?" Ron choked out, afraid to even think about what he thought his best mate was hinting at. But Harry didn't seem to be listening any more. Instead he was humming a very familiar tune, and whispering the words. "Harry please," Ron almost begged.

Harry looked back over his shoulder at them, still humming the tune, with a slightly mad smile on his face. "The Ministry does like to make people disappear, don't you remember?"

Hermione took a step closer, her heart thundering in her chest. No, she couldn't let herself believe that they could possibly get them both back today. It couldn't be possible. "Harry?"

"We have plans for retribution, and the Cowards had better beg their gods for mercy, because they sure as hell won't find any from us." Harry laughed into the black, his voice raising up the howls of a thousand Demontors, the soul screech of the beasts impossibly loud and gut wrenching. He started to hum his tune louder, adding words this time. And, Hermione and Severus both thought that their ears were playing tricked on them, because they could swear that they hard other voices from below joining in.

"Demons run when a good man goes to war."  
"Night will fall and drown the sun;"  
"When a good man goes to war."

"Friendship dies and true love lies."  
"Night will fall and the dark will rise;"  
"When a good man goes to war."

Harry flung himself into the black on the last word, vanishing into the mists. All four of them ran to the edge and looked down, half afraid to see him splattered on the stones far below. Instead they saw him grab a cable strung across the pit. It bent deeply in the middle when he hit it, but it held. He bounced there, a thousand feet above the boiling fog that the Dementors lived in, before he started to move down the line one hand over the other.

"That was an old sailors song that used to be popular before they really understood where the Dementors came from. It's why they called it Demon's Run. No one really remembers what it means anymore, but there was one more line," Hermiones recited almost robotically, still overwhelmed from what she had just witnessed and heard. "It's actually oddly fitting considering the aftermath of the last battle, and Harry's trial."

Seamus had managed to 'uncharm' himself, and joined them at the edge of the pit, just as Harry reached the other side and dropped down onto a rusty looking cat walk beneath a lone light. He turned and looked back up at them, before a sound that only he could hear drew his attention.

A petite woman stepped into the circle of light with him, walking gracefully on the rickety catwalk. She wore functional combat boots, jeans with an equipment belt around her waist and a blood red dragon hide vest, leaving her arms bare. Ron couldn't breath. He couldn't move. All he could see was her red hair tied back into a short braid that wouldn't get in her way. He wasn't aware of anyone else in the world, other than his best mate, and that impossibly familiar red hair. Only one person had that flaming shade. But it was impossible.

He could still remember throwing a handful of dirt on her coffin as it was lowered into the ground. He remembered standing in the small church, staring at the pictures of her set up all over, trying to blink away the tears enough to see. She was smiling in all of them, having fun, looking at Harry with that look that said so much. He could still see their mother falling apart and clinging to the coffin, screaming that they couldn't bury her baby.

Ginny stopped beside Harry. They both smiled wickedly up at their friends, waving to them. They would see them tomorrow and explain it all. Ron had fallen to his knees and was crying openly, and it was all Ginny could do not to rush up there and hold him in her arms and tell him she was alive and fine … but the kill spells would strike her dead before she got within twenty feet of him.

Next to him, almost as shocked Hermione stood unmoving. Severus was surprised, but as he didn't know the Weasley girl very well he was mostly unaffected. He did see the rather tragic meaning in the Demon's Run Poem.

"Demons run, but count the cost;"  
"The battle's won, but the child is lost."


End file.
